


Love Is (Him)

by dexsnursey (nerdy_farm_girl)



Category: Check Please! (Webcomic)
Genre: Fluff, Getting Together, M/M, background Chowder/Farmer, bi dex, clam chowder discourse, dex's grandma is SAVAGE, nursey and his poetry man
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-28
Updated: 2016-04-28
Packaged: 2018-06-05 01:55:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,829
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6684571
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nerdy_farm_girl/pseuds/dexsnursey
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Nursey falls quiet again, nothing but the sound of asphalt beneath the tires and soft music filling the cab of his truck. When Dex glances over he's just barely smiling, looking stupidly good with one of Dex’s hats pulled on backwards and aviator sunglasses shading his eyes. Dex abruptly realizes he wants to kiss him, wants to curl his hand around the back of his neck and tug him across the center console. Instead, he scowls and takes another sip of the ice coffee Nursey had insisted on stopping for, hoping the bitterness will quell these obnoxious feelings.<br/>The traffic gets lighter and the buildings get smaller the farther south they get, until the highway is lined with trees and Dex is flying along at a good clip. He can almost taste the ocean, even though they've got a few miles yet. There's excitement thrumming in his bones, and he wants it to stop. This feels like a Big Deal, like something could happen tonight. Something momentous.<br/>This is the worst.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Love Is (Him)

**Author's Note:**

> The Check Please comic and all its characters were created by and belong to Ngozi Ukazu. Thank you so much for giving us this wonderful universe.
> 
> So I started writing this before I realized that Dex might be from Maine?? I'm not super clear on it tbh, but in this fic just pretend he's from Rhode Island. I hail from the little Ocean State, and half of this fic is me waxing poetic about how pretty it is. (The other half is Dex waxing poetic about how pretty Derek Nurse is, but you know...). Also, there's a poem that I wrote at the end, pretending to be Nursey, and let it just be said that poetry is NOT my thing. AT ALL. So sorry about that, I have no idea what I'm doing.

Summer’s coming, Dex can almost taste it on his tongue. He doesn't have a way with words like Nursey does, but there's a heaviness in the air, a warmth to the breeze, and flowers blooming everywhere he looks. It makes him itch to get out on the water, to taste the salt on his lips and hear the gulls screaming around him.  It's enough that he's considering going home for the weekend, just to really _feel_ it and to clear his head.

He hops up the front steps of the Haus, pausing when he hears a groan from somewhere above him. Pinching the bridge of his nose, he debates pretending he didn't hear it. Because he knows that groan, and he knows exactly the state he's going to find the owner in. Unfortunately, even off the ice, Dex can't help but be concerned with the welfare of one Derek Nurse. With a sigh, he backs down the steps and into the yard, shading his eyes from the sun as he squints up at the Reading Room.

Nursey’s splayed out across the shingles, one arm dangling off the roof, head pillowed on the other.

“You alright dude?” Dex asks, kind of wishing he didn't have to. But it's been two years since he met Derek Nurse, and despite how hard he tried not to, he cares about him. Probably too much, especially when sometimes he can't stop thinking about those soft green eyes and the tattoo winding up his corded arm.

“I'm an English major and I'm going to fail creative writing Poindexter,” Nursey half groans, looking down at Dex from beneath hooded lids. “I'm just chillin’ here, waiting for inspiration to float my way.”

Dex blinks. Nursey's one of his best friends, but sometimes (most times) he has zero patience for this poetic shit. “Obviously lying on the roof and moaning at passersby is the best way to get inspired.” Nursey grunts and rolls onto his back, dangerously close to the edge. Dex tenses, hands coming up, as if he could actually _catch_ him if he fell. “Why don't you write about what you usually do? Like leaves and scarves and shit?”

“I’m trying to be out of the box Dex.” One of his legs drops over the edge of the roof, and Dex flinches, moving closer, just in case. “And I like leaves in the fall, when they're fading from yellow and red to orange and brown. They're like fire, like a sunset all day long. Green doesn't do it for me”

“Green is a _fine_ color.” Any other day Dex probably would have left him there with his process or whatever the fuck it is he usually does. But today feels like summer, and Dex is feeling generous. And possibly a little self-indulgent. “You want inspiration?” He calls up to Nursey, grinning when he sits up, both legs swinging off the roof. “Come on, we're going for a drive.”

Nursey tilts his head like a confused puppy, as if he doesn't understand. It's not _that_ hard.

“Where we going?” His voice drops an octave, and it makes Dex’s toes curl in his sneakers, warmth dripping down his spine.

“It's a surprise,” Dex smirks into the sunshine, ignoring the way his stomach swoops when Nursey grins back at him. All the warm and fuzzies disappear when Nursey swings his legs and leaps from the roof, falling towards the ground. Dex swears and reaches for him, catching him around the waist and managing to land on his knees in the grass with 200 pounds of Derek Nurse on top of him. “Jesus Fuck Nurse.” He shoves him off, if only to keep his hands from wandering across warm skin. “You're the last person that should be trying that stunt.”

“You caught me anyways Dexy,” Nursey grins, lounging back on the grass like he planned to lay there. It's the worst. Where does this guy get off looking like a goddamn punk ass model all the fucking time?

“I'm already regretting this,” Dex grumbles as he pushes himself to his feet. “Let's go Nurse.” Without looking back, he stomps off towards the parking lot.

Neither speak until they cross the Rhode Island border, the beginnings of Friday afternoon rush hour starting to clog 95 into Providence. Unfortunately, there's no other way to get where he's trying to go besides sticking to the highway, and then getting on Route 4, but at least it's not warm enough for beach traffic to be a thing yet.

“Are we going to see Jack?” Nursey asks, arm hanging out the passenger window. Dex shakes his head and sends a glare at the city for good measure. He has no idea how Jack can feel comfortable living in a city, surrounded by so many people all the time. Sure, Providence isn't _bad_ , but Dex needs space to breathe.

“You think I’m bringing you to Jack for poetry inspiration?” Dex laughs as he moves into the high speed lane in an attempt to escape the traffic jam. “I told you, it's a surprise.”

Nursey falls quiet again, nothing but the sound of asphalt beneath the tires and soft music filling the cab of his truck. When Dex glances over he's just barely smiling, looking stupidly good with one of Dex’s hats pulled on backwards and aviator sunglasses shading his eyes. Dex abruptly realizes he wants to kiss him, wants to curl his hand around the back of his neck and tug him across the center console. Instead, he scowls and takes another sip of the ice coffee Nursey had insisted on stopping for, hoping the bitterness will quell these obnoxious feelings.

The traffic gets lighter and the buildings get smaller the farther south they get, until the highway is lined with trees and Dex is flying along at a good clip. He can almost taste the ocean, even though they've got a few miles yet. There's excitement thrumming in his bones, and he wants it to stop. This feels like a Big Deal, like something could happen tonight. Something momentous.

“Hey, don't your ‘rents live down here?” Nursey asks as Dex takes the exit towards Jamestown. Dex nods, heart skipping as he catches sight of the water ahead, the bridge stretching across the bay. “We goin’ to see all the lil’ Poindexters? I miss them man.”

“No,” Dex shakes his head again. “They definitely do not qualify as inspiration, Jesus Nurse, it's all gingers and bickering in my house” Nursey shrugs and looks out the window.

“I like gingers and bickering,” he mumbles, so quiet Dex isn't even sure he heard right.

His stomach swoops as they head over the bridge. Sailboats bob in the water below mixed with a couple of fishing boats probably heading into Wickford. The sunshine and the sea air are making him giddy, and he feels better than he has in weeks, months even. And the fact that Nursey’s here with him makes him unbelievably happy, it's the worst.

He takes a right off the bridge, the sinking sun setting the fields on either side of the road on fire. There's cows grazing on one side, a windmill in the middle of the field, and Dex almost expects Nursey to snort, or make some douche baggy comment. But when he glances over, Nursey’s got an awe filled look on his face. The sun’s lighting up his skin in coppers and golds, reflecting in his sunglasses and highlighting the hollows of his cheeks. Dex wishes he could take a picture, wishes he could remember this moment forever. Instead he smirks and turns his eyes back on the road.

“You're like, way chill right now bro,” Nursey drawls when Dex parks the truck. “It's kinda weirding me out.”

“Oh fuck off Nurse,” Dex claps him on the shoulder as he rounds the front of the truck, pushing open the door to a little seafood shop. He blinks into the cool darkness, the familiar smell of fresh fish and clam cakes hitting his nose.

“Billy?” He looks up to find his grandmother smiling at him from the other side of the counter. The remaining tension that was coiled in his chest loosens at the sight of her, with her fading red hair pulled back in a bun and the laugh lines around her eyes. “I didn't know you were coming home this weekend!”

“Hey Gram,” Dex smiles, ducking behind the counter and wrapping his arms around her. “I'm not staying, just wanted to take a little drive. This is my um-” he reaches for Nursey, clapping a hand down on his shoulder. “My friend, Derek, he plays with me?”

“Oh yes, I remember this one,” Gram reaches up and pinches Nursey’s cheek. “I don't forget a handsome face.”

“Don't feed his ego,” Dex groans, ignoring the way the half smug, half embarrassed look on Nursey’s face makes his cheeks feel hot. “Can we get some ‘cakes and chowder? Gonna take this guy out to Beavertail.”

“Beavertail huh?” The smirk on Gram’s face makes his cheeks flame, but she's already bustling away towards the pots in the back. “You want white or clear?”

“White, Gram, you know that.”

“I’m still hoping you'll stop disgracing our family with this nonsense,” Gram grumbles, even as she fills Styrofoam bowls with thick, creamy, clam chowder. “A self-respecting Rhode Islander chooses clear, every time.”

“Gramps likes white too.” The argument is familiar, repeated every summer and family gathering since Dex can remember.

“Still don’t know why I married that man,” Gram grumbles, but her cheeks are full and her eyes are sparkling as she heads towards the fryer in the back. “I’ll cook a batch up fresh for you Billy.”

“I knew I was your favorite grandson!” He calls after her, smile fading as he turns to look at Nursey. His eyes are dark and his smile is beyond fond, and the way their shoulders are pressed together feels like it should mean something. But it doesn’t, Dex reminds himself, forcing his expression into something other than blatant heart eyes. God. This is just the worst.

“You know,” Gram smirks at them over her shoulder, dropping spoonfuls of batter into the fryer without looking. “Your grandfather took me to Beavertail for our first date.”

“ _Gram_ -”

“It certainly is a nice place to watch the sunset.”

“Derek’s got to write a um, poem, thing, for a class, and he needed something to write about,” Dex insists, wishing he could cover the burning of his cheeks with his hands. “Why do you - I don’t even - wait, I thought your first date was at _The Breakers_ or something.” Dex hopes his distraction technique works, refusing to even chance a glance at Derek Nurse. This was a terrible idea.

“No, that came _after_ the first date dear,” Gram pokes at the clam cakes. “We used to neck down on the rocks in front of the mansion though. You could take Derek there too.”

“ _No_.” Dex groans, reaching for the cups of chowder still sitting on the counter and shoving them into a brown paper bag. “This isn’t - ugh.” He grabs a handful of napkins and shoves them in the bag too, followed by two spoons and little bags of oyster crackers.

“Here you go dear,” Gram reaches around him and drops a bag of fresh clam cakes in with the chowder. “Have fun on your date!”

“It’s not a date oh my _God_ ,” Dex grabs the bag off the counter but hugs his grandma anyways, even though he kind of wants to shrivel up and die right about now.

“You definitely got your taste from me,” Gram whispers in his ear. “Quite a looker you got there.”

“Okay,” Dex extracts himself from her embrace. “I’m leaving now. Thank you for the food.”

Without looking at Nursey he grabs a handful of his shirt and tugs, dragging him back out into the bright sunlight.

“Your grandma is _savage_ man,” Nursey laughs, the sound lighting Dex up from the inside out. “I’ve never seen you that red in my life.”

“I don’t wanna talk about it,” Dex grumbles, climbing behind the wheel and still refusing to look at Nursey. If Nursey asks him about any of this, it’s going to be disastrous. Not only is he a terrible liar, but he knows he gets mean when he’s emotional, and the only thing worse than denying his crush on Nursey would be saying something to hurt his feelings.

“I mean, she seemed cool,” Nursey apparently decides to ignore Dex’s warning, per usual. “But like, is she trying to make a like no homo joke or something?”

“No!” Dex risks looking at him for the first time in minutes as he starts the truck. “No, she’s not like that she’s-”

“So she knows you’re… I mean, Dex, you never talk about like, your sexuality bro. I’m not trying to like pressure you but you’ve never actually _said_ …”

“I should’ve left you on the fucking roof,” Dex grumbles, backing out of the parking spot and pulling back out onto the road. “I’m bi okay? My Gram is the only one who knows. I’ve never actually said it out loud to be honest, and she only knew because I ended up crying to her in fifth grade when my best friend Matt got a girlfriend. I was a little bit more upset than I should’ve been.”

“But she was teasing you in front of me?” Nursey’s voice sounds normal, if not softer, but Dex isn’t about to make eye contact, no way, no how.

“Well she can probably see -” he freezes, the ‘ _how I feel about you’_ on the tip of his tongue. “I mean… we go to Samwell right? She knows how it is there.”

“Sure man.” Dex stiffens, well aware of what’s coming next. “It’s chill.” He swings his head around to look at Nursey. He wants to kiss that proud smirk off his face, wants to tangle his fingers in his hair and taste the skin stretched tight across his collarbones. His pulse quickens, afraid that Nursey will be able to see the want in his eyes. But when he flicks his gaze up, Nursey’s already staring back out the window, lips parted as he stares at the water on either side of them. Dex swallows hard and looks back at the road, nerves flaring up as they near their destination.

He hears the waves crashing against the rocks before he sees them, the sound mimicking the way his heart is pounding against his ribs.

“ _Bro_ ,” Nursey exhales, his voice full of awe. Dex doesn’t dare look at him, well aware of the softness to his features and the wide eyes that he’ll find.

“Right?” Dex parks and hops out, grabbing the bag of food and a couple of water bottles from behind the seat. He heads towards the rocks without looking back, carefully picking his way down to one that is perfect for sitting on. Behind him, he hears Nursey swear and trip, then a splash, followed by a low _chill_. When he looks, Nursey’s shoes are wet, and he’s glaring at one of the shallow tidal pools. “You alright Nurse?”

“Yeah, it’s chill man.” Nursey visibly forces the glower off his face, features smoothing into that irritatingly calm expression. Dex wants to chirp back, wants to tease him about being a klutz, about not being able to climb down a few rocks. But he can’t find the words, tongue heavy with unexpressed emotion.

Nursey settles beside him on the rock and accepts the bowl of chowder he hands him, tucking the plastic cover carefully back in the bag. It’s nice, the contrast between the heat of Nursey’s body beside him and the cool spray of the surf as it crashes against the rocks. If this were really a date he’d hook their ankles together and lean into him, not leaving any space between them. Instead he focuses on eating, savoring the creamy chowder and the saltiness of the clams, the taste of home.

The sun’s sinking low over the mainland before Nursey speaks, the bowls of chowder empty and nothing left of the clam cakes but a few grains of salt.

“I have to say Poindexter, this place is awful poetic.”

Dex allows himself an almost smile, turning to look at the way the sunset makes Nursey’s skin glow.

“You going to be able to stop whining about your poem bull shit now?”

Nursey turns and grins at him, that slow smile Dex doesn’t think he’s ever been on the receiving end of. “Yeah,” his eyes flick across Dex’s face, slow and serious. “I think I’ve found my muse.”

Dex swallows and looks quickly back at the water, something about the words or the tone of his voice making his skin prickle with awareness. He feels too hot, even with the cool sea mist blowing over him, and he knows his cheeks have to be flaring red.

“Well uh, that’s good,” he mumbles, flushing even more at the awkward cadence of his words.

“It is.” Nursey presses their shoulders together, his skin warm even through the fabric of both their t-shirts. He smells good, always does, like peppermint and moonlight. Dex fights off a shudder as his eyes slip closed, trying to think about anything but the boy sitting beside him. “Might even let you read the poem when I’m finished.”

Dex from two years ago probably would’ve sneered and said ‘thanks but no thanks’, would’ve chirped Nursey about even writing poems in the first place. But now, now it makes Dex’s heart stutter in his ribs, excitement rolling in his tummy like the waves crashing against the rocks below him.

“Yeah?” He braves a glance back at Nursey, who’s watching him still, green eyes softer than ever. “I’d like that.”  Nursey smiles at him, this small, honest little thing, and Dex’s heart stutters in his chest.

He’s fucked.

* * *

 

“Hey.” Nursey kicks at Dex’s foot under the kitchen table, but he ignores it in favor of finishing the string of code he’s been working on. “Hey Dex.” Nursey kicks him again, _harder_ , because he’s a fucking jerk.

“I’m busy Nurse,” Dex hums without looking up from his laptop. “Go bug C.”

“I don’t want to bug C,” Nursey replies, waving a piece of paper in front of him. “This is for you.”

Dex finally looks up, surprised to see an unfamiliar vulnerability in Nursey’s eyes. It piques his curiosity enough for him to give in.

“Fine.” He plucks the paper out of Nursey’s hands, smoothing it out carefully on the table. Derek Nurse, the date, and the class are printed at the top in Times New Roman, a ‘95’ written and circled in red ink on the top right corner. ‘Love is’ is typed in the center of the page, underlined and bolded. Dex’s heart starts to race, and when he glances up, Nursey has backed away to lean against the counter, knuckles turning white as he grips the edge. Dex swallows hard, ears burning, and starts to read.

 

_Love is -_

_A worn out pickup truck,_

_With rust on the doors._

_Pale wrists draped over a steering wheel._

_Love is -_

_Flushed cheeks and_

_The setting sun lighting up his hair._

_The taste of salt on the breeze._

_Love is -_

_Freckles splattered like wet paint_

_Across soft skin._

_Waves crashing against the shore._

_Love is -_

_The way he looks_

_With the sea reflecting in his eyes_

_And a smile pulling at his lips._

_Love is -_

_Him._

 

His cheeks are burning by the time he finishes, pulse echoing in his ears. This is, Nursey wrote this about _him._ Right? To be sure he reads it again, worrying his bottom lip between his teeth. When he finishes the second time he glances up at Nursey. He's pointedly avoiding eye contact, gaze trained on the toe of his boot.

“Nurse,” his voice cracks, and he winces. “ _Derek_ I - you wrote - is this-”

“You don't have to say anything,” Nursey mumbles, still staring at the floor. “I told you I'd let you read it so, um yeah. There it is.”

The legs of his chair scrape gratingly against the floor when he pushes it back, but it makes Nursey glance up, eyes wide. He looks almost scared, and Dex hates himself for giving him any reason to react that way. It takes two strides to cross the kitchen and crowd up against Nursey, fitting his hand around his jaw. Kissing him is the next logical step, pressing their lips together in a way he hopes conveys how much he wants this. Dex knows that anybody could see them, that Ransom could decide to take a break from studying (unlikely) or Bitty could come in with bags full of butter and sugar. But it doesn't matter, not when Nursey makes this tiny little pained noise and kisses back, fingers warm as they curl around Dex’s waist and slip into his hair. Dex traces his tongue across Nursey’s plush bottom lip, moaning when he parts his lips and deepens the kiss, pulling Dex impossibly closer. He's surrounded by Nursey, his smell and his hands and the slick slide of his tongue. Dex wants to drown in it, wants to stay like this, light headed and gasping for breath for infinity. 

“Derek,” he mumbles against Nursey’s lips, chest heaving. “Do you-”

“OH MY GOD!”

Dex stiffens, eyes falling shut at the sound of a very familiar and very excited voice.

“I can't believe you guys didn't tell me!” Chowder bounces into the kitchen, dragging a bemused looking Farmer with him. “We could be double dating!”

“C chill, we’re not-”

“I haven't got a chance to ask this asshole on a date yet,” Dex cuts Nursey off, afraid of what might come out of his mouth. “So we might have to wait on that double date.”

“What! You guys! This is so exciting! We should go now!”

“Chris,” Farmer laughs, tugging on his wrist. “Come on, let's go upstairs. Give them some space.” Dex huffs out a laugh against Nursey’s cheek, trying to ignore the heat he can feel radiating from his entire face.

“So…” Nursey says after a moment, fingers pressing against Dex’s back beneath his shirt. “About the date.”

“Dude,” Dex pulls back enough so he's sure Nursey can see the grin stretching across his face. “Chill.”

“You're the worst,” Nursey grumbles with an exaggerated eyeroll. But he's pressing closer anyways, licking a stripe up Dex’s neck in a way that makes him moan.

“You wrote me a poem Nurse,” Dex laughs, his fingers curling through Nursey’s hair. “I’m pretty sure you don’t think I’m the worst.”

“Nah,” Nursey leans back, a smirking pulling at his lips. “You’re definitely still the worst.”

Dex just smiles and kisses him, slow and hot, until he feels Nursey melt beneath his hands. Nursey’s probably still the worst too, and Dex is definitely, infinitely fucked.

**Author's Note:**

> thanks for reading! Come hang out with me on [tumblr](http://dexsnursey.tumblr.com)!
> 
> also - if you're ever in Rhode Island, totally check out Beavertail State Park, it's super beautiful, and there's tidal pools with hermit crabs and views of the open ocean.


End file.
